


anywhere was a wide open road

by torigates



Category: Doctor Who
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-04
Updated: 2013-11-04
Packaged: 2017-12-31 12:04:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1031516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/torigates/pseuds/torigates
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes Amy thought about the way the world had restarted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	anywhere was a wide open road

  
Sometimes Amy thought about the way the world had restarted. The way her Doctor had literally undone and entire universe and brought it back to life again, and it made her feel sad. There were whole other lives, whole other memories, whole other people that were just gone now, or who had never been, and sometimes when Amy thought about it all it was so overwhelmingly, powerfully sad she couldn’t bear the weight of it. Sometimes she thought about the way she had lived two whole and equal, yet separate lives and she wanted to cry it was so wonderfully unbelievable.

It was all very confusing having two separate timelines in her head. It was tricky, navigating her memories. Amy knew, _knew_ she’d grown up happy and well loved by both her parents. She’d been spoiled rotten by her dad, and spent countless hours complaining to her mum about everything and anything in her life. She knew that to be true without a doubt.

She was also an orphan. She could remember growing up with only her aunt, having to spend countless nights alone. She can remember crying herself to sleep she was so lonely, and the way other people would look at her with pity and whisper about the poor Pond girl when she was just out of earshot.

Both of these things were true.

It was hard to navigate her memories. Growing up with her Raggedy Doctor as her only constant, growing up without him. Growing up always having loved Rory, growing up struggling and fighting tooth and nail with that truth.

Amy’s whole life was a paradox. There wasn’t a whole lot she could say about herself with absolute certainty, but she felt like the Doctor was. Even when he hadn’t been there, even when he hadn’t existed for her, she had somehow always known he was there.

And time could be rewritten.

When he crashed outside her bedroom window, when she became the girl who waited and changed her whole life and everyone’s around her, Amy found herself.

She knew she shouldn’t let another person define her whole life, but the Doctor is and was and would be everything to her. Someday he would walk out of her life again, Amy knew that without a doubt, and she would wait for him again (but not alone this time, because it was the Doctor who also brought her Rory. He brought her Rory and her family, and Amy would never have to be alone again, they’d wait together, they would _live_ together).

But someday was a long ways away, and most days Amy could convince herself that someday would never really come.

The Doctor would smile down or up at her, hanging off rafters or buried in the belly of the TARDIS, and ask, “Where to next, Pond?” Amy knew in those moments more than ever, that the Doctor didn’t think of someday, at least not with her. He thought of here and now and what’s next, he thought of the fun they were having or could have, and he loved, loved, loved her with his whole hearts, of that much she was sure. It made Amy ache inside, sometimes, of all the ways he was alone, had been alone, would be alone. Of all the times she hadn’t been there to protect him, and probably wouldn’t have been able to even if she had been there.

Time could be rewritten, but not always.

Still, someday was a long way away, or at least not today, and Amy knew better than anyone else that some things were worth the wait. More than worth the wait. For now she was still Amelia Pond, the girl who waited, and he was her Raggedy Doctor.

It was enough to let her smile back at him. It was enough to let him show her the stars, and sometimes Amy could stare at those stars and remind herself that they were there in part because she remembered who he was, and because she had a boy who loved her so much he waited two thousand years just to see her face again.

She grabbed his hand and pulled him after her into the open canvas of the universe, and thought there is nothing like this anywhere else in existence. There was no one like the Doctor. There was no one else like Amy, and together they made something beautiful.

“Where to next, Pond?” he asked.

Amy smiled back at him and looked at the stars. They were bright and endless and real, and so was she. It was enough for today and for someday and for every.

“Anywhere,” she told him. “Everywhere.”

So they did.

(“Amy Pond, there's something you'd better understand about me because it's important, and one day your life may depend on it: I am definitely a mad man with a box.”

It wasn’t until later, much later, that Amy was fully able to understand just what those words meant. It wasn’t until much later that Amy had a grasp on just how lonely a creature her Raggedy Doctor really was. She often wondered if that was what drew them together, the girl who waited, and the man who made people wait. Always wait.

She realised that as much as she needed the Doctor, she was also using him to see the universe, and as much as he didn’t need her, he was using her to fill a gap in his life that probably nothing ever would.

She understood that, “Where to next, Pond?” could be as much a selfish question, as her longing to stay with him always, and for that, they worked together.

He might be a mad man with a box, and she would always be the little girl with the crack in her wall who waited, but together they were so much more than that, and they worked together in a way that so few things in life did.

That was the beauty of her Doctor, and anywhere was a wide open road.) 


End file.
